Six Times
by magic-carpet
Summary: Six times Calleigh has ever felt pain. CaRWash implied, but it's angsty. WARNING: Rated T for a reason.


Author: Lilly

Title: Six Times

Pairing: Ryan/Calleigh implied, but it's angsty. Interpret what you like.

Rating: T

A/N: It started out as a random Calleigh-centered drabble, but it turned into this. It's not great, but that's what drabbles are. Six times Calleigh has ever felt pain. It took me a long time to write this- it actually started out a month ago, and I've been working on it basically every day. Hopefully it's pretty good now. :) Please review, it makes my day.

**Six Times**

I. First Time

He wasn't necessarily irresistible, he wasn't even that good looking. Nothing special. Dark hair, a goofy grin, soft hands. A simple guy, the kind who would fall for her.

He told her that he was into science. Smiled, held her hand, and asked her to walk to the lake with him. He talked a lot, but he listened too. He did everything right. He stroked her palm with his fingers, smiled at everything she said, and put his arm around her when it got chilly. She laughed at his jokes. They sat down together, and after a few minutes, he kissed her.

She had heard about it too many times. She knew the consequences, the potential dangers. She was the smartest girl in the world, and yet, she did the dumbest things.

He consumed her, and she let him. It was all exciting, until he rolled off her and she felt the emptiness take his place, and she started to cry, and couldn't stop. He told her he was sorry, and he kept saying it, again and again. He was scared for her, was scared with her, but it didn't stop him from leaving.

* * *

II. Thin Lines

She knew it was wrong, from the moment the idea popped into her head until she was through doing it. She knew people would see, that she couldn't avoid the questions, that it could ruin her. She did it anyway.

She used a key, because she was too afraid to use a blade, and knew her dad would notice if one of his knives was missing. It was harder though, and she had to saw with it over and over again to do anything.

It was probably for the attention. She was in pain, of course, but she was too smart for the whole 'physical pain heals emotional pain' spin. Part of her knew she wanted people to see, wanted them to ask questions, just so she could tell them and see the look on their face. Maybe, when she told them, they would wrap their arms around her and tell her it was all okay, and cry with her, because sympathy and pity was better than nothing.

Sometimes she would wave at someone, or raise her hand, or hand in a file, and she would get questions. The scars were there. It had been twelve years, but they were still there. And now, the pity only reminded her of what it felt like to need it.

* * *

III. High and Low

No one pressured her into doing it; they didn't even have to offer it. She had been trained her whole life to say no, but she never had to. She went looking for it.

It wasn't some group thing. She was alone, after school, behind the liquor store. It made her sick, and she threw up all over the pavement. Eventually she got used to it though, and for a second, she thought it was working. She kept going. There was no one there to tell her to stop, and she wasn't going to stop on her own.

Eventually she was forced to stop, and didn't have the option of starting again.

* * *

IV. Forgetting

It was hard to forget the look on his face, and the feeling that overwhelmed her, as he exited the building, free of any cuffs. He looked back and smirked at her, a small twitch in his face, but she saw it. He was in his car, and then he was gone, and it was over. He'd be north by the next morning.

Horatio told her over and over again not to worry, that it wasn't her fault, that they would get him anyway, but she couldn't listen. She smiled weakly, nodded, and accepted his gentle hug. She wouldn't have, but Horatio didn't give out hugs very often.

She knew her father had never been to this bar, and the bartender wouldn't know her. Her badge and gun were in the car, so for a while, she didn't have to be a responsible cop. She could be careless and stupid. She knew it was wrong, she always did, but somehow the numbness that drowned her helped her forget. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about anything. For this night, she wanted to lose herself, and forget the pain.

The bartender told her she'd had enough, but she smiled at him, somehow, through the haze, offered some Calleigh Duquesne charm, and he gave her another drink. She couldn't remember getting into her car, but then again, she was only trying to forget.

And then she was in the hospital, she couldn't move, and everything hurt. Horatio was standing by her bedside, with a sad look on his face and her badge in his hand.

She still remembered, anyways.

* * *

V. Time Off

She couldn't tell him. She kept telling herself that it would ruin everything, that she's rather pretend she was happy than tell him what was bothering her. It was far worse, the past.

Not telling him ruined it, in the end. He cried as he told her. They needed a break. He loved her, but she couldn't love him until she loved herself. He knew she didn't. He knew her better than anyone, and now he was leaving her. He had asked her what was wrong, always made a point that she could tell him anything, that he wanted to know because he cared about her.

She shook her head at him. She told him she was sorry, and he hugged her, and he left. He told her to call him, to tell him when she was ready, that he would always be waiting for her, but he wasn't. Six months later he announced to the lab that he was engaged. He'd gotten tired of waiting, just like he'd gotten tired of her.

* * *

VI. Committal

She hadn't cried at Speed's funeral, and she wouldn't cry now.

It was a small affair. There were six guests, and their names were Eric Delko, Calleigh Duquesne, Ryan Wolfe, Alexx Woods, Natalia Boa Vista and Frank Tripp.

There was a gun salute, and his flag was folded. An officer handed it to her. It was heavy in her hands, and felt wrong. She passed it to Eric, and watched as his modest casket was lowered into the ground. There was rain, but it held off long enough for the dirt to be tossed over him.

She didn't know where to go, couldn't grasp the concept of moving on. She didn't have to, she decided. She was perfectly content to stand in front of Horatio's grave forever.

Ryan wrapped his arms around her, but his comforting gesture felt cold.

He was there through everything, and now he was gone.

The tears came eventually, but they were drowned out by the rain. It was hard to remember anything good when everything felt so bad.

She left by midnight, but she never stopped crying.


End file.
